


Oral over Water

by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Airplane Sex, Airplanes, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, College Student Peter Parker, Come Swallowing, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, M/M, No Weapon X, Rough Oral Sex, Size Difference, sex as stress relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/MsCaptainWinchester
Summary: Peter is on a flight to his first international conference and nervous as hell about it. When the hot, flirty guy next to him offers him a blow job as stress relief, he has a hard time saying no.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 24
Kudos: 432





	Oral over Water

**Author's Note:**

> I picked Singapore as Peter's destination because when I started this fic, that was the location of the conference Peter was going to--you know, back when things like in-person international conferences were a thing. I had no idea at the time that the Singapore Changi Airport is the most insanely beautiful airport in the world, but [Y'ALL](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MbO3Tz-vdw).
> 
> Anyway, I started this for my Marvel Bingo card, but that event is now defunct, so I guess it's just for me. And all of y'all, too. Have some Peter fucking Wade in the face in a tiny airplane bathroom. You're welcome.

Peter hadn’t been able to settle the nervous jingle of his leg since he took his seat twenty minutes ago. He tried to get out of his own head, but even watching the other passengers try to stow their belongings for the long flight to Singapore wasn’t enough to distract him from what he was going to be doing when he got there. He had no idea how he had let Dr. Banner convince him it was a good idea to submit his paper to the conference. He was barely a doctoral student. What could he possibly have to say about [something already determined with gold] that the leading experts in the field would be interested to hear? Why they had even accepted him was beyond his comprehension. If he screwed up this presentation, his career would probably be over before it even began.

Peter’s thoughts got interrupted by a massive hulk of a man coming up the aisle, shoulders wider than the aisle, so tall he had to bend his neck to walk under the plane’s low ceilings. He stopped to help a tiny woman get her luggage situated in the cramped overhead baggage. The way he dwarfed her by a good foot and a half made something curl up and purr in Peter’s stomach. Peter’s cheeks warmed, and he quickly averted his eyes when the guy was finished helping the woman and his gaze fell on Peter watching him.

Peter’s leg started jangling again as his eyes fell to the presentation speech in his lap once more. But before he could start spiraling again about being laughed at and royally fucking up his first international conference, movement at the end of his row caught his attention once more. The guy was shoving his duffel bag into the overhead right in front of Peter, his muscles bulging under the red hoodie he wore. Peter darted his eyes away again when the guy finished his task, but he had been caught again.

To Peter’s complete and utter embarrassment, the guy sat right next to him in the middle seat, his bulk taking up slightly more than his allotted space. Peter glanced up, cheeks burning.

“Sorry for being in your space, gorgeous. Can’t contain these guns,” the guy said, flexing a little with a smirk. It was obvious he knew Peter had been looking. Peter both wanted to curl up in a ball and fall through a hole in the bottom of the plane and crawl onto the guy’s lap and feel those massive biceps under his hands.

He settled for coughing and smiling awkwardly, very much aware of how hard he was blushing. “I don’t mind,” he said.

The guy gave him an appraising look, smile turning wicked. “Glad to hear it. Wade Wilson. Who am I going to be sharing such tight quarters with today?” he said, holding a hand out for Peter to shake.

Peter slipped his hand into Wade’s much larger palm hesitantly, returning the smile with an uncertain one of his own. “Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker picked a plate of pickled peppers, hmm?” Wade winked, leaning further into Peter’s space as he let go of Peter’s hand with a firm shake.

“A peck,” Peter said, compulsive and embarrassed by his compulsion.

“On the cheek? What are we offering here, baby boy?”

“No, uh... it’s picked a peck of pickled—Nevermind, it’s dumb. Sorry, I’m really nervous. I tend to babble.” He was now tomato red, he could feel it by the way his cheeks burned red hot. That hole in the bottom of the plane could show up and swallow him whole any time now.

“Don’t like flying? Worried about how you’re going to contain yourself sitting next to my hot ass for eighteen hours? Don’t worry, I can distract. How do you feel about a little...” He leaned right into Peter’s space with a conspiratorial tone that went right down Peter’s spine. Peter could feel his skin tingling, neutrons wanting to jump ship and get closer to so much hotness. Wade reached up to Peter’s ear, slow and sensual, as if he might caress. Peter’s brain was running a mile a minute, shocked and sensationalized by this man hitting on him so blatantly so quickly after meeting. But instead of touching Peter, he pulled his hand back with a British Pound coin between his pointer and middle finger, “...close up magic?”

Peter went a little cross-eyed looking at the coin, and burst out laughing when the question fully registered, nerves turning into unbridled giddiness at the silly, unexpected question.

Wade sat back in his chair, a satisfied little smile on his face. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

“It’s certainly distracting,” Peter said, just as a surly-looking man in khakis and a grungy polo sat on Wade’s other side, eyeing them both suspiciously.

“I know a lot about distracting people,” Wade said with a wink, completely ignoring the man on his other side.

By the time the Fasten Seatbelt sign was flashing and the flight attendants were giving their flight safety check speak—once in English and then in Mandarin—Wade had shown him three magic tricks, done badly (Peter suspected on purpose solely for his amusement), and wasn’t making any attempt to stay out of Peter’s personal space. Not that Peter minded one bit. He found Wade easy to talk to, and much less intimidating than his large presence gave the impression he would be.

So when they finally started take-off, Peter was reluctant to turn to look out the window even though this was only the third time he had ever been on an airplane. But as he looked out the window, he felt Wade pressing against his back, and glanced back to find Wade as riveted by the view of them taking off as he was.

“This is my second favorite part of flying,” Wade told him, right in his ear. “I was worried I wouldn’t get to see it since I checked in too late to get the window seat, but you don’t mind me being all up in your space, do you, Petey-Pie?” His breath was hot on the back of Peter’s neck and sent a shiver down Peter’s spine.

Peter shook his head, keeping his eyes on the ground as they rose higher and higher above the familiar bustle of his home. It was easy to forget how beautiful New York was when you were deep in the thick of it, living your life, but this high up, it took his breath away.

“What’s your favorite?” he asked, turning to Wade when they reached cloud cover and there was nothing much to look at anymore.

“Position? Bold of you to ask so soon.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but his breath caught when his eyes met Wade’s. Oh, that wicked smile was going to get him in trouble. “Part of flying. You said watching take-off was your second favorite part. What’s your first?”

“Jumping out of the airlock.” He said it so matter-of-fact that Peter almost missed the joke.

He glanced at the notes still in his lap and huffed out a laugh. “Can I join you?” The sight of the notes was a reminder of what he had waiting for him in Singapore, and the thought made him mildly nauseated. He picked the papers up and started stuffing them into the seatback pocket in front of him to get them out of his field of vision.

“That bad, baby boy? What’s got you so tense? Can’t be fear of flying, or you wouldn’t want to jump out of the airlock with me. I didn’t even say whether or not I like using a parachute.”

“Dying in a plane crash might be preferable, honestly,” Peter muttered, slumping down in his seat. He glanced up to find Wade watching him patiently, sighed, and sat back up. He explained about the presentation he was giving at the International Conference for Biotechnology and Engineering. Just talking about it ratcheted his nerves up to eleven, but Wade was patient with him and listened intently. He even asked a few surprisingly intelligent questions about Peter’s research—It wasn’t surprising to Peter that Wade was intelligent, only that he was able to follow Peter’s research enough to be able to question it. Some of his fellow doctoral students didn’t understand what his research was about. It was a confidence boost to talk to someone about it without feeling like he was speaking gibberish.

“I can see why you’d be tense,” Wade told him with a sympathetic look that quickly turned mischievous. “Want me to suck you off in the bathroom? A good sloppy toppy always helps me relax.”

Peter blinked. And then he blinked again. Had this guy just suggested…? Peter started choking on his own spit and coughed loud enough for half the people around them to turn and give him annoyed looks. He apologized around his own coughing and tried to hide his embarrassment with flailing arm gestures. Wade rubbed his back with a wicked smile and a hungry look.

“Are you always this adorably awkward, or is this just my lucky day?” he asked.

“Are you always this forward with complete strangers you meet on airplanes?” Peter replied, rubbing at his own chest to soothe some of the discomfort.

“Only if they’re as hot as you.”

“Thanks, but joining the Mile High Club isn’t on my bucket list. Maybe on the second date.”

“Sounds expensive for a second date, but I’m about to be loaded, so I’m down.”

Peter wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he decided to twist the conversation around instead. “You know why I’m going to Singapore. What about you? What does a guy who flirts with strangers on airplanes and knows close-up magic do for his day job?”

“Best not to spill some secrets, sugarplum.” Wade booped him on the nose with a goofy smile. “That pretty face is too perfect to fuck up with a bullet to the brain. You watch the Bachelor? I’ve got a bunch of episodes downloaded on my iPad.” He switched topics like he hadn’t just threatened to kill Peter, and Peter was too thrown by the first comment to call him on it. He must have been joking.

Peter brushed the comment off and let Wade talk him into pairing his airpods to Wade’s tablet so they could watch trashy tv together until dinner.

-

It was three in the morning New York time, and Peter’s worries about his upcoming presentation had crept back in to take over his brain and kill any chance of sleep he had. He and Wade had long since burned through the first six episodes of the Bachelor, and Wade was scrolling through what looked like government files on his tablet while their seatmate snored on his other side. The cabin was dark and mostly quiet, and Peter had nothing to focus on but his own impending career disaster. He could pull out his notes and go over them again, but he knew that would only make his nerves worse. He glanced at Wade and bit his lip.

“So, if I were to be… interested. In that thing you suggested earlier. How would we go about… doing that?” he whispered, heat creeping up his throat at the very thought.

Wade grazed his fingers over the inseam of Peter’s jeans, eyes still on his tablet, his big hand heavy and warm on Peter’s thigh. A shiver of want trickled up Peter’s spine and his body temperature increased with it. “I’m going to go to the bathroom in the back in a minute,” Wade murmured back out of the corner of his mouth. Peter watched him glance to the right to check their companion, still snoring. He lowered the tablet to his lap and leaned directly into Peter’s space. “If you were interested in doing that thing we were talking about earlier, you might want to go to the bathroom in the back in five minutes. And then, you might want to knock three times on the door. Quiet-like, so none of the crew hears you. And maybe after that, we’ll find out what happens next together,” he whispered directly in Peter’s ear, following up the seductive purr by sucking on Peter’s earlobe before leaning back in his seat and lifting the tablet back to reading height as if he hadn’t just suggested they go have a quickie in an airplane bathroom.

Peter gulped, his face on fire, but his skin tingling in anticipation. Wade’s hand squeezed on his thigh, his pinky finger trailing up the inseam of his jeans to barely brush the outline of his cockhead. Peter pressed his lips together to hold back a soft sound and reached down to urge Wade’s hand just a little higher. Wade grazed his fingers over the full length of his shaft before pulling away and tucking the tablet into the seatback pocket.

He stood in his seat and turned to the aisle, bracing a hand on the back of his chair and the back of the chair in front of him to vault himself over the sleeping form of their companion in one fluid motion. Peter was surprised at just how agile he proved for such a bulky man. Peter resisted the urge to watch him walk to the bathroom, not wanting to give himself away and potentially get caught.

He counted up the seconds in his head until he reached 300, and then he followed Wade’s motion and swung out into the aisle. The man slept on, none-the-wiser for having two people jump over his seat. He checked that the flight attendants were nowhere in sight and strolled casually towards the back. Most of the other passengers were fast asleep, a sea of blankets, eye masks, and drool. Peter could not believe what he was about to do while all of these people slept around him. This was complete and utter madness.

He knocked on the door anyway.

After the third knock, the door slowly swung open to reveal the tiniest of airplane bathrooms, Wade wedged in like a cartoon body guard with a grin as wide as his face.

The space was already impossibly small, but with Wade’s impressive build, it felt even more impossible to Peter. He stood in the doorway staring dumbly, unable to convince himself to take the necessary steps forward. Thankfully, Wade pulled him inside before an attendant could walk by and catch them and closed and locked the door behind him. The heat of him pressed up against Peter’s front was comforting, if a little stifling. Good stifling.

“Glad you decided to join me, but you seem a little unsure there, twink-a-dink. Before I start playing catch the snake, you sure you want to do this?” Wade asked, sliding his fingers through Peter’s hair and tilting his face up to meet his eyes.

Peter swallowed around the nervous lump in his throat and nodded. “Yeah, just uh… not sure how? It’s kind of a tight fit.”

The vague uncertainty that had been curling Wade’s smile down disappeared in an instant. “Easy.”

In a feet of strength that did nothing to tamp down on Peter’s growing erection, Wade picked him up by the waist and set him on the edge of the closed toilet seat. Peter blinked, not quite able to process how easy and smooth that had been. Flashes of Wade picking him up and tossing him onto a bed or fucking him up against a wall made the flush of his cheeks heat up even more. He let his legs fall open on either side of the seat unconsciously, leaving enough room for Wade to kneel on the floor and lean over him for a kiss, all wet tongue and warmth. Peter moaned softly, burying a hand in Wade’s soft hair to hold him there.

“Comfortable?” Wade asked when he pulled away, hands already starting to stray to Peter’s waist and fuss with the button of his jeans.

The hard plastic didn’t feel amazing on his ass, but his hard-on was taking up most of the blood needed for caring, so he nodded. “You?”

Wade’s smile turned wicked. “’Bout to swallow a hot guy’s dick. Couldn’t be better.” He gave Peter one last look as if for permission, which Peter gave by lifting his hips up to make room for the jeans to get shoved down, and then his pants were open and his boxer-briefs shoved down his hips, and Wade was making pleased noises under his breath as he wrapped loose fingers around the base of Peter’s cock.

Peter gripped onto the toilet seat, breath caught in his throat. He’d never let a relative stranger suck him off before, and the reality of it was starting to make him nervous. Wade was giving his dick a close inspection, nose brushing against the shaft as he leaned over Peter’s lap with a low whistle. “Just as gorgeous as I thought it’d be when I first laid eyes on you, baby. Look how hard you are, just thinking about getting my mouth on you. And you smell so good, all sweaty and nervous and warm. I bet you taste amazing. Should I take a lick?” he asked, eyes teasing when they met Peter’s as his hand lightly pumped up and down Peter’s shaft.

Peter made a keening noise he’d never made before and shifted his hips in Wade’s direction, begging without meaning to. His mouth was watering with the thought of what that smiling mouth was going to feel like. Wade flicked his tongue out against the underside of his head, lapping up the few drops of precum that had already dripped down. Peter was a leaker, had always been self-conscious about it, but Wade seemed to love it if the noise he made was anything to go by. “Fuck, baby, you look so good squirming under me. I bet I could make you cry, begging for my cock. So sweet. So needy.” He punctuated each word with a quick flick of his tongue against Peter’s sensitive glands, making him crazy with anticipation and squirming even harder.

He let Peter dangle for a few more seconds, handing lazily sliding up and down the shaft as he watched Peter unravel. And then he swallowed Peter down to the root in one go, and Peter had to bite into his own hand to stop himself from shouting loud enough to wake the whole damn plane. He thought he might have tasted blood, but the hot contraction of a throat around the head of his cock was enough to stop him from caring. “Oh god,” he groaned, melting into the toilet seat as Wade swallowed around the head buried deep in the back of his throat before pulling off in one long, slurping suck and flicking his tongue against the underside of his head again.

“You fit my throat perfectly, baby boy. Look at you, already a mess from one suck. I can’t wait to see what how wrecked you are when you’re close to coming.” He emphasized the point by sucking Peter down again in another quick movement, before pulling back to the very tip again and beginning a fast and hard sucking that sent Peter spiraling. He hunched over Wade’s head in his lap, hands flailing for his hair to anchor him, biting his lip to keep the moans down. Wade’s hands went to his wrists and squeezed, seeming to indicate that he wanted Peter to fuck his throat. Peter let out a low shout and began thrusting his hips forward, eyes clamping shut against the intense heat and wet of Wade’s mouth.

The next second, they flew open and narrowed in on the door in a quiet panic, worried that he’d been too loud and they were going to get caught. But Wade was bobbing his head hard and fast without pause, squeezing Peter’s wrists rhythmically to encourage him to keep thrusting.

As Wade dragged him closer and closer to the brink, his ability to care about getting caught diminished, and he started fucking Wade’s throat in earnest. Wade made choked-off happy-sounding groans, the wet slurp of Peter hitting the back of his throat growing loud in the tiny space.

With a sharp, bitten-off cry, Peter exploded in a flood of cum down Wade’s throat, shaking and snapping his hips uncontrollably as he came down from the high of it. Wade hummed his own satisfaction through it all, swallowing what he could and pulling off when it became too much, sticking his long tongue out to catch the last sprays of cum with his eyes trained on Peter’s face. He looked as debauched as Peter felt, cum and saliva dribbling down his tongue. He swallowed what was on his mouth and dragged fingers over his face to catch the rest and swallow it, too, before leaning over to clean Peter up the same way.

Peter was still dazed and a little dizzy from his orgasm, but watching Wade clean him up had to be the single hottest thing he had ever experienced. None of the shy nerd-types he’d dated in high school and college had ever been this wanton in their appreciation of blowing him.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said, the words coming out unbidden even as his hole clenched around nothing just thinking about it.

Wade leaned over to kiss him with hands braced on his knees, sucking on his tongue until his toes curled in his shoes before pulling away with a gentle peck to his nose. “Next time. I think we’ve already spent a suspicious enough amount of time in this bathroom, baby boy. Let’s get you decent and you can head back to the seats ahead of me.” He pecked Peter’s mouth again and tucked him back into his underwear, zipping and buttoning up for him when it became obvious Peter’s hands didn’t want to cooperate.

When Peter was presentable and standing up, Wade pushed him against the back wall over the toilet and kissed him a last time, hard and possessive in a way that made Peter’s insides want to curl up and submit. He lifted Peter up again and twisted around to deposit him at the door, smacking him on the butt to get him moving when Peter stared at him dumbly instead of leaving the way he was supposed to.

It did the trick. Peter slipped out of the bathroom and walked up the aisle on wobbly legs, still a little disoriented from maybe the best orgasm of his life. He had to wake the aisle guy up to get past him, limbs too weak to lift him over the guy’s lap without risking smacking him in the face. The guy looks confused being woken to find both of the seats next to him empty, but he got up and let Peter sheepishly slip past him, not meeting his eyes, and re-settle in his seat.

A yawn came over Peter and his eyes began to droop as he laid his head against the head rest. He glanced through the crack to the seat behind him to check on the sleeping passenger at his back before dropping his seat back and getting more settled to potentially sleep for a while. A few minutes later, he heard Wade getting back in his seat and drop his seat back, too, to match Peter’s. Peter didn’t open his eyes, but felt Wade move the armrest between them out of the way as he got more comfortable and Peter slumped over closer to rest against him without thinking about it. He felt lips pressed to his forehead and a hand on his thigh before he drifted off.

-

Peter woke to a hand shaking his shoulder, blinking to find a flight attendant smiling down at him apologetically. “I’m sorry to wake you, sir, but the flight has landed. If you would like to gather your things, you can disembark now. Welcome to Singapore.”

He rubbed at his eyes, straightening a little to try to wake himself up. His seat had been settled back into the upright position while he was sleeping and his seatbelt had been buckled over his lap. Wade must have done it. But when he looked around, Wade was nowhere to be found. His head sank a little, disappointed that he hadn’t waited to exchange numbers or walk off the plane together. He had been planning to invite Wade to his hotel room for that fuck he’d promised, but it looked like Wade wasn’t as interested as he’d seemed.

Peter gathered his things up and climbed out of his seat, swinging his messenger bag over his shoulder and reaching into the overhead bin for his carry-on. The airport itself was enough to distract him from his disappointment, with its lush greenery and gorgeous waterfall. He felt like he’d stepped into a future simulation and was almost late getting to his hotel gaping at everything.

It was only when he dug through his bag for his phone to check his messages as he was waiting in line for transport that he found the sticky note stuck to the screen. ‘ _Had to jet to a job, but call me if you want a round two,_ ’ it said, a US-based phone number with a winky face and a little circle with two half-circles in the middle that looked a little bit like a face written under the note. Peter pulled the note off with a warm little shiver and grinned. 

**Author's Note:**

> I do not consent to my stories being listed on Goodreads or other book platforms.
> 
> If you want writing updates from me, you can follow me on Twitter [@RonsPigwidgeon](https://twitter.com/RonsPigwidgeon), [Tumblr](https://mscaptainwinchester.tumblr.com/), [NewTumbl](https://mscaptainwinchester.newtumbl.com/), or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/MsCaptainWinchester).
> 
> And if you'd like to come yell about my main ship, Spideypool, with me, join the 18+ Discord server I co-mod, [Isn't It Bromantic](https://discord.gg/w6UyAn7)!


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